


Feels Like War

by NikiNemeth



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha Derek, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Anxiety, Anxiety Attacks, Awkward First Times, Derek Takes Care Of Stiles, Eating Disorders, Eventual Smut, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Food Issues, Hurt Stiles, Hurt/Comfort, Insomnia, M/M, Mild Smut, Protective Derek, Scott McCall & Stiles Stilinski Friendship, Self-Harm, Self-Hatred, Slow Build Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Stiles Has Panic Attacks, Stiles Stilinski has an Eating Disorder, Stilinski Family Feels, Triggers, trigger warning
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-03
Updated: 2017-08-21
Packaged: 2018-03-05 04:08:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Underage
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,748
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3105062
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NikiNemeth/pseuds/NikiNemeth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Since Stiles’ mother passed away, he just didn’t seem to find his place. After so many years he still had panic attacks, he was still certain that it was all his fault and he couldn’t say one damn positive thing about himself. In fact, he didn’t even want to.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hii. This is my first fanficition that I uploaded in here. I hope you'll enjoy. c: (English isn't my native so please forgive me if you notice any mistakes.)

**S** ince Stiles’ mother passed away, he just didn’t seem to find his place. After so many years he still had panic attacks, he was still certain that it was all his fault and he couldn’t say one damn positive thing about himself. In fact, he didn’t even want to.

 **B** ut he never once complained. He was the one joking around all the time, no matter if inside he felt like dying. Stiles learnt to hide well what he really felt throughout all those years he’d spent completely alone. Of course, Scott was always there for him but even when he wasn’t a werewolf (not to mention that he turned because of him), he’d never call him in the middle of the night just because he had a break down. It was rare anyway so why would he bother his best friend with something like this? And now that Scott had better things to do, now that he had Allison and the pack, Stiles couldn’t help but feel worthless. It used to be him who was asked to help and find out something, to do research but lately, it seemed like they choose Lydia instead of him - but let’s be honest, _she’s a genius._ No one could argue with that.

 **S** he was the girl he was in love with since 3th grade but she didn’t give a penny about Stiles, but in some kind of way he didn’t care anymore. He knew he’d never be good enough for Lydia, or for anyone as a matter of a fact.

 **S** tiles became dispensable. He was dispensable as a friend, he was dispensable as a son, he was freaking dispensable in every possible way. No one ever asked him how was he doing, not even his dad or his best friend and nowadays, he didn’t even mind. He’d gotten to the point where he could finally state that he got used to it.

 **„** Derek said we’ll have a meeting after school.” That was the only part of the day when Stiles had the chance to talk to Scott – lunch time. It was a tricky twenty minutes of every school day. He didn’t know if he was looking forward to it (because for the love of God, for twenty short minutes he felt like everything was back to normal again - Scott talking to him, pranking each other and just talking about anything what popped into their head) or he hated it because _food._

 **F** ood has become one of his greatest enemy. He used to love eating, he’d eat everything in the whole wide world, really, he wasn’t picky. His dad brought home junk food? He ate it. Scott gave him his chocolate bar? Stiles ate it. He was sad? Stiles binged. He was happy? Scott came over and ordered a freaking huge pizza. But lately? Stiles either was starving or ate everything he saw. And that’s when he always made his way to the mirror to just look into it and find something new about himself to hate. ’ _You’re too fat’ he thinks as he lies down in his bed and reaches out for his phone. He takes out the battery, lets the little blade fall into his hand. Taking it between his index and his thumb, he places it against his wrist. ’You deserve it’ he thinks as he cuts the skin, never too deep to be lethal, but always deep enough to feel the pain._

 **„** A meeting? I guess something’s up then.” Stiles replied and tilted his head toward Scott. He didn’t touch his food, he didn’t even look at it, he wish he couldn’t feel how good it smelt.

 **„** Yeah, it must be.” Scott nodded, shoving his lunch into his mouth before furrowing his brows and speaking again. „You should start eating or you won’t finish it.”

 **S** tiles felt like his heart skipped a beat as he swallowed the lump in his throat and bit his bottom lip nervously. „I don’t think I should unless you want me to end up bending over the toilet. My stomach hurts like bitch.” He improvised – holy god, how much he hated lying. Especially because Scott was a freaking werewolf and he was damn sure he could sense that he lied. That’s why he was surprised that he didn’t look mad at all.

 **„** Greenberg was sent home with the same symptoms.” His voice was soft and Stiles was relieved. He wanted to just stand up and run to Greenberg’s house to thank him for being sick.

 **„** Yeah? Great now everyone will think that I hung out with Greenberg. Do me a favor Scotty boy and if someone asks you tomorrow why I’m missing school tell them I have diarrhea.” He joked with a smile and it even grew wider when Scott chuckled. Stiles was glad that he managed to skip lunch even if it meant lying to his best friend. But considering the fact how he’d feel now if he ate it, it was better in this way.

 **A** meeting. Why did they even want him to come? He didn’t feel like he was part of the pack, he wasn’t a werewolf or a Banshee or any supernatural being. Stiles was human. A pretty fragile one, actually. Sometimes he was wondering why Derek let him be a part of his meetings especially because they were always about werewolf things. Stiles let out a soft sigh as he made his way to the locker room. Lacrosse was one of the many things he’d lost interest about. He used to love playing even though he never made it to first line _. You’re not good enough for first line; don’t even dare to even feel good enough to be a part of the team._ He stopped in front of the door, trying to deal with the fact that he had to change in front of the others. Stiles always tried to arrive late, when most of his team mates were already on the field but there were always some guys who were still in the locker room. There was Danny, for example. He was the first one Stiles saw when he finally had the courage to step inside. Danny sometimes looked at him concerned – like he suspected that something wasn’t alright. And that was a bit weird because not even his best friend noticed the scars on his forearm but Stiles didn’t blame Scott. He was hiding his scars, always wore hoodies or shirts so no one could see that both of his arms were covered in scars. But changing clothes in front of others was terrifying. What if someone noticed the scars on his thighs or on his arms, what if someone judged him by the way he looked _~~jesuschristyouaresofatstilesyougottalosesomefuckingweight~~_? Throwing his backpack on the floor, he looked around to make sure no one was watching and changed his clothes in light speed.

 **H** e was sitting on the bench again, like he always did. Stiles never really cared about it because he used to like to watch as his team mates were playing and was happy for someone, for anyone who managed to score. But lately he didn’t even care who won, he was just looking down continuously and couldn’t stop thinking about that the reason he couldn’t be in first line, the reason he was always sitting on this freaking bench was because he was a failure. All the others were muscular, popular and handsome. And then there was Stiles, who ~~felt like he~~ was fat and ugly and deserved to sit there instead of playing. He just couldn’t take it anymore. Taking a deep breath, he stood up and headed toward the coach. _Congratulations Stilinski, you’re giving up again. No wonder why no one wants you around._

 **“** Uh, coach?” Stiles accosted the man nervously – he was standing a few feet away from him for minutes before he finally decided to talk to him. On a scale from one to ten his anxiety level was on hundred.

 **“** Get back to the bench, Stilinski.” Bobby gestured toward it, didn’t even bother to look at him and for a second, he was considering sitting back but he just couldn’t be here anymore. He didn’t want to be here anymore. So instead of doing what he was told, Stiles pressed his lips together and swallowed the lump in his throat before speaking again.

 **“** ~~\----~~ Okay.” _Well, that was brave Stiles._ He was pretty bad at lying when it was about telling others that he felt sick. Alright, maybe he was sick of being here but he didn’t literally felt sick. He felt bad for lying to Scott earlier and he just couldn’t lie once again, especially to the coach, who would send him to the nurse for sure. He decided on sneaking off. His gaze searched for his best friend then he glanced at Finstock and once he was sure no one gave a crap about him, Stiles rushed back to the locker room.

**_T_ ** _he only reason you managed to get back in here is that **no one** cares about you. Why would they? You’re **barely** the part of the team. **No one** gives a fuck if you’re sitting on the bench or not. **No one** gives a damn if you’re sneaking off or not. **Not even** your own dad or friends notices that you cut yourself because **they don’t care about you. They never wonder** when was the last time you ate. **They haven’t thought about** that even if you happen to eat you purge it right after. **No, Stiles. It’s not their fault. It’s only yours. If** you were a better son your dad **would** be proud of you. **If** you were a better friend the pack **would** be concerned about you. _

**S** ometimes he wished these voices in his head would go away, but not now. In some kind of weird way he enjoyed that they won’t leave him alone this time. _You deserve it._ Stiles clenched his teeth and with a sudden movement he punched the wall with everything he could muster.

 **B** y the time he got in his Jeep his knuckles turned swollen and red but he liked the way they looked. Every scar, every bruise, every little thing he’d ever done to himself was a sign that he’d got a war in his mind. Even though sometimes he didn’t wanna win the battles somehow he always managed to. He was still here – and he felt numb. Stiles started the engine and drove off of the parking lot, making his way home, wanting to end this feeling as soon as it was possible. He wanted to feel something – which happened to be one thing.

 **S** tiles shut the door when he stepped inside his room. His dad was probably at work though, he still didn’t want it to be open. He felt himself in safe when it was closed. Maybe because if someone would step in without knocking he’d still have time to clean up the mess he was about to make.

 **H** is eyes filled up with tears but he didn’t bother to blink them away. He took off his hoodie and headed to the bathroom. Stiles sniffed as he looked into the mirror and saw his reflection. _So_ _disgusting. So fat. So worthless. So pathetic._

 **S** hoving up his shirt to take a look at his body, Stiles turned in a different direction to see the progress. Seeing his ribs gave him a slight of relief, but he still thought he wasn’t thin enough. He should have been able to see all of his ribs, but he only could see the rest of his bones when he sucked in his stomach. He swallowed hard and let the shirt cover his body again as he started to look for that little blade he’d took out from a pencil sharpener. He sat down to the bathroom floor, listening to his mind as it wanted to stop him from causing harm to himself.

_I don’t want to. **But you have to.** No one said I have to. **Just look at yourself**. I can’t. **Exactly.**_

**W** ith that thought in his mind, Stiles sliced his skin. _God, that’s all you can do?_ He pressed the blade against his forearm again to make an other cut. _And an other, and an other…_

 **H** is blood was dripping down to the floor, made him feel relaxed, calm and made him feel like he finally paid for his sins. It was flowing like crazy but he figured it’d stop eventually; therefore he just sat there, not doing anything at all to make it stop. Perhaps he didn’t even want to.  Not like he had to. Stiles didn’t have to be afraid that someone will find him like this. His dad was working and the pack had a meeting. He was curious if they were wondering why he wasn’t there. Probably Derek was happy about it and the rest of the pack simply didn’t care. Scott maybe did, but he wouldn’t come over. Stiles was sure that Allison was more important than he was.

 **I** t took a few seconds until he noticed that it wasn’t only his blood what was flowing. He couldn’t help but let his tears roll down on his cheeks when he felt his stomach growling, almost like it was begging for him to eat, _at least a little something_. Stiles tried to catch his breath between a few coughs, tried to divert his attention from everything bad that was happening to him but those things just seemed to revolve around him. He felt like someone had punched him in the gut, felt that tightening feeling in his chest, like his lungs could explode in any moment. There was a ringing in Stiles’ ears and everything sounded muffled, like he was underwater. He swallowed hard and took in a sharp breath, the pit in his stomach just widened and widened and he felt like the carpet had been ripped out from under him as the recognition hit him. He was having a panic attack. And he was completely alone.

 **S** tanding up from the floor he was trying to calm down because _he was aware_ this isn’t going to end well. Stiles felt like he was living his worst nightmare, the bleeding still didn’t stop and he still couldn’t breathe properly, he was shivering and for once in his life he didn’t know what to do. He couldn’t make it stop – _~~d~~_ _ ~~ammitstilesyouaresofuckingmiserable~~_ – and focus on his breathing at the same time. The panic started to take control, he was frightened, afraid that he might will just bleed out. Stiles didn’t care if he died. But his dad – his dad would be the one finding his body, his dad would lose the only thing in his life that mattered to him, his dad would blame himself and he didn’t want to make his Father feel in this way. He’d already lost Claudia, he didn’t need that sorrow in his life again, he didn’t want him to grief again. As the tears were running down his face it was almost like they burned his skin, thinking about Scott because even if he was busy with that whole werewolf thing, even if he was hanging out with Allison much more nowadays than he did with Stiles, Scott would be freaking sad, too. He knew that. He was like a brother to him and losing a brother wasn’t something easy to handle. Stiles just didn’t want to make others sad, that was the reason he didn’t want to die – which was a bit ironic.

**_What am I supposed to do?_ **

**H** e collapsed on the floor again, this ache in him burned a hole right through his chest and a fire that engulfed his throat and he swore he had swallowed gasoline it hurt so much. Stiles took his phone out of his pocket, knew that he’ll make the biggest mistake of his life when he dialed Derek’s number.

**_“_ ** _I need your help.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not planning on to be all this depressive all the time!! Hang in there Stiles.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this chapter quite a while ago so I don't know if it was finished or not but I figured it has a good ending so there we go.

_„I need your help.”_

His voice was barely audible and if he wasn’t talking to a werewolf he’d be sure that the other didn’t hear what he said. Stiles was wheezing and it was hard to focus on the Alpha’s voice even though he heard Derek talking to him. He felt so weak sitting there and asking someone’s help just because he couldn’t clean up the mess he’d made.

When he didn’t get any answer from Stiles, only those weird sounds the boy seemed to make, all of Derek’s doubts had gone away. Of course he thought he was kidding – after he didn’t show up on the meeting after school and Scott told him that he even disappeared from lacrosse Derek thought that he just wasn’t in the mood today. But it didn’t sound like Stiles was just messing around; it sounded more like he had a hard time breathing there.

Stiles hands were shaking and he couldn’t help it, he wanted to reply every time the wolf called his name and lie that he was joking but he just couldn’t bring himself to do it. He lied too many times about being okay. Maybe he just wanted someone to notice what was going on. He wanted to be saved even though a part of him was telling him that he deserved to not to be alright. He deserved to starve, deserved to have a panic attack and he was well aware why.

As soon as Derek heard the other’s phone dropped on the floor he knew that something was going on. He had no idea if Stiles was at home or if he got kidnapped and just managed to call him. He only knew that he needed to find him, to make sure everything was alright.

He wanted to hang up but he figured Derek would do that anyway. Why wouldn’t he? It did sound like just a bad joke, Stiles wheezing on the other end and not replying to him. He didn’t know how many minutes passed with trying to calm himself, but it didn’t take him too long to give up. He rested his head against the wall, closing his eyes tight like he was waiting for this to end already.

It was only when he heard a door opening, though it was more like someone had just broke in – it was loud and for a moment he didn’t realize that it was the bathroom door. His eyes opened slowly, expecting to see his dad but he just didn’t want to face that he found him like this. Covered in blood while having a freaking panic attack.

His vision was blurry because of the tears that filled up his eyes and he was about to apologize but _wait, this couldn’t be real._ Before he said anything to the man approaching him, he needed to rub his eyes to make sure it wasn’t just his mind playing games with him.

_How many minutes could have possibly passed?_

The boy wasn’t sure how to react. _Happy because it wasn’t his dad finding him? Ashamed because he had to see him like this?_ Maybe he felt both when he was fairly certain that he wasn’t hallucinating, it was _Derek_ who rushed in the bathroom and stood there completely shocked. _Hell, Stiles was shocked, too._ Derek’s first thought was to ask what happened but it was pretty obvious. He ~~couldn't~~ didn’t want to believe what he was experiencing, he didn’t want to believe that Stiles had done this to himself.

Instead of saying anything, Derek grabbed a towel and kneeled down beside him and pushed the material against his forearm. He didn’t realize until he saw his own hands were shaking and it was only Stiles trying to catch his breath what made him look at his face. Suddenly those weird noises what he heard on phone made sense.

“Stiles, look at me.” Probably later he’d deny it later, but Derek was scared. He wasn’t sure if it was because of how Stiles looked like sitting there or because this whole situation made him remember the times when he had panic attacks after his whole family burned alive. He remembered how no one was there for him, that he was all alone and he had to bear these kind of situations on his own. Stiles head turned toward Derek, his skin pale and his eyes teary.

“I need you to do what I say, alright?” He asked, looking right into those Bambi eyes what stared right back at him – Stiles was surprised of how gently he was talking to him, how calm Derek was. At first he thought he’d leave, but he was _still_ there, _next to him_ , pressing the towel against his arm to stop the blood leaking from his scars. He was sitting next to him, _Derek freaking Hale_ was the one trying to help him and that’s when he couldn’t help but let the tears fall from his eyes, nodding at every word Derek said.

“Deep breath – “ He asked while Derek himself did what he just said, waiting for the boy to do the same. Stiles swallowed hard before he managed to take a deep breath. “Alright, keep it in.” Derek added softly but he _couldn’t._ He coughed hard, like he had something permanently stuck in his throat he just couldn’t get rid of. Derek pressed his lips together nervously, trying and doing _anything_  that was able to make Stiles get his attention again.

“Stiles.” He spoke a bit louder than before, his free hand taking the other’s, intertwining their fingers together and that was when Stiles finally looked at Derek again. “In and out. C’mon. You can do it.” He said softly, squeezing his hand gently.

He tried his best to hold his breath, trying to resist exhaling, staring right into the wolf’s eyes – Stiles really had no idea what was even going on at this point but he decided to just do what Derek said. For some kind of weird reason he trust him, and he _felt safe_ with Derek next to him, holding his hand and trying to help him in any way he could. After all, he could have just left the moment he saw him in the bathroom floor. But instead, he was trying to prevent him from blood loss, and he was trying to make his panic attack _stop._

Derek didn’t realize he was holding his breath as well until he inhaled and nodded, in this way telling him that he could let it out as well. Stiles slowly started to breathe properly again, felt that tightening feeling leaving his lungs. He didn’t know if it was because of this weird method or because _Derek made him feel better_ , but it didn’t matter right now.

“Alright.” He let out a relieved sigh when he made sure the boy wasn’t going to choke but he still had to take care of his arm. “Can you get up?” He still talked so gently to him it made Stiles feel bad about forcing him into this situation. Derek was the first standing up so he could help the boy to his feet. Stiles looked so pale for a brief moment the wolf was afraid he’d pass out. Derek bit on his lower lip before cupping Stiles' face - _damn, since when did he become so important to him?_ “It’s okay, _hey_ – you’re gonna be okay. I promise.”


	3. ?? praying for some feedback ??

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> read below, please

I know I abandoned this fanfiction ages ago,  
but I was wondering,  
if anyone would be interested  
if I continued? ♥ ☺


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i got a lot of comments that i should continue so here we go.♥  
> thank you for all the encouraging.  
> i hope you like it (bc i don't)

It was weird how easily Derek’s words were snaking into the brunette’s ears and swam around in his brain, making everything else blurry – the pain, the fear, and the overwhelming sadness that was consuming him slowly but surely seemed to fade away, even if just for a couple of minutes. If someone would have told Stiles that Derek had a big effect on him, he’d have laughed at them and say that was a completely stupid and false statement. However, now he was proven wrong; he’d never thought that one day it’d be Derek _keeping his broken pieces together, holding him back from falling apart._ But there he was, the big bad wolf, the seemingly cold hearted and always sour man, carrying Stiles to the bed in his arms with a scarily sincere worry on his face. It was such a brutally sincere expression that the smaller boy had never witnessed before. And he didn’t know whether he should be worried too, or laugh at that sight, because turning serious situations the other way around was his best defense to combat his embarrassment.

And he _lost it._ Even though the pain he felt was real and almost unbearable (but in a crazy way sickly _pleasant_ ), Stiles had this tiny smile tugging at the corner of his lips as he was laid down on the bed. He was fairly certain Derek would notice it nonetheless so he didn’t even try to hide it, his eyes staring at the wolf’s face and watching carefully as that worried expression turned into a confused one.

“What’s so funny?” The question was meant to be asked in a gentle way, probably, but it came out rather harshly, as if Derek was telling him off for smiling in a situation like this; in a situation where the bathroom floor was covered with Stiles’ blood and where he had a vertical and almost too deep cut on his forearm. And of course he was painfully aware that he shouldn’t have been smiling, but that sight was too good, so good that the younger boy was on the edge of calling him adorable.

“You look like _you’re feeling_.” Stiles replied, now unable to keep his smile from growing wider. His words came out softly, barely above a whisper, too tired and too fatigue to speak any louder. He wouldn’t trust his voice to come out right if he talked in a normal tone of voice anyways.

“ _Seriously, Stiles?_ ” Even if he wouldn’t have been able to see Derek’s face, he’d be able to tell that he had this _‘I’msotiredofyourshit’_ face on, but actually witnessing it made it even funnier and he was unable to stifle that light chuckle that was bubbling up in his throat – though it came out rather hoarsely, and was immediately followed by a cough.

“Just – shut up.” Derek spoke up once again as soon as he heard that not so promising cough. “It’s _not_ funny. You scared the hell out of me, I thought you – “ then he trailed off. He really wasn’t the type to get all emotional and show his true feelings, so he used the same old tactic he always would. To deal with the situation calmly with a clear mind.

Stiles luckily seemed to notice that it really wasn’t the time for bantering and teasing, and after murmuring a soft _“sorry”,_ Derek let out a heavy sigh before sitting down on the edge of his bed and reaching for his arm instead of any verbal response. It was nothing but a gentle touch, and for a second the brunette boy thought the wolf was just resting his hand on his arm, but only a moment later he could feel his pain alleviating. Derek was hoping to absorb all of it, to take all of Stiles’ pain away in one go and hopefully make him heal, but as in most cases, he only could take the pain and let the boy’s body do it’s job, let him heal by itself.

There was a long but relieved sigh that escaped Stiles’ lips, his eyes glued to their hands and whatever Derek was doing, his eyes widening a bit in surprise at the feeling of this pain going away so suddenly. It was almost like some kind of miracle that Stiles wouldn’t have been able to believe if he wasn’t feeling it himself.

“I think you need stitches.” The werewolf’s words ended the silence, the sentence hanging in the air until Stiles was able to process it and take the information in. There was no way he’d go to the hospital with this – even the thought freaked him out, the thought of someone finding out what he’d done to himself. Derek seemed to notice that for once Stiles was loss of words, so before he could say anything the other male spoke up again.

“I’ll patch you up.” He then stated, making it obvious that there was no other way to solve that problem. However, Stiles couldn’t decide if he was happy about it or actually terrified of Derek doing that for him. “You’ll be fine.” Derek added, again, in that caring tone of voice which now made Stiles smile fondly while he nodded his head. He believed him. He might didn’t have any reasonable explanation why, but he believed him. Just from the moment the other showed up, _he knew he was going to be alright._

It took around a hour for everything to be cleaned up. Stitching Stiles’ cut taking way more than expected due to the constant whining and complaining about how he’d pass out at the sight of that and bragging about how weird and painful it all was. Cleaning up in the bathroom wasn’t problem free either, since Stiles was insisting he’d help because it all was his fault but as soon as he saw all that blood he really did pass out.

By the time it was midnight, Stiles was lying in bed again, his eyes closed as the exhaustion was taking him over. The whole time Derek was here, he didn’t ask anything. Even when Stiles was constantly apologising for everything and saying thank you for the hundredth time, he still wouldn’t bring up the topic or ask why and even if it was brought up the younger male managed to turn it all into a joke, making the werewolf roll his eyes. Yes, Derek was indeed curious. He wanted to know why and wanted to know about all the little things that led Stiles choose to do this to himself. And yes, Derek wasn’t blind. He did notice that it wasn’t the first time he’d taken a blade to his arm but he considered himself stupid for not noticing earlier. He wondered if anyone even noticed. There were so many questions blowing up his mind but Derek didn’t know if Stiles was comfortable enough with sharing all those answers with him; and he respected that, so he didn’t ask. He remained quiet.

“Derek, I can feel you’re staring at me even with my eyes closed,” Stiles started softly, his voice sounding hoarse as he opened just one of his eyes to glance at Derek who was currently sitting on his bed again. “You can go home if you want to – really. I’ll be fine.” He would be lying if he said he didn’t feel guilty for taking up the other’s time and forcing him into this stupid situation which he never even explained why it all happened; and the least thing he wanted was Derek to stay because he felt like he had to stay to watch over him.

“Do you want me to leave?” The werewolf asked then, eyebrows raised. As Stiles turned on his side he couldn’t help but to snort, now both of his eyes fluttering open and looking up at him.

“ ** _No_** , I mean – yes. I mean, I kind of don’t but I also don’t want to make you stay if you want to go. So just – you know, don’t feel like you have to stay because I want you to.” He knew what he said probably didn’t even make sense, but trying to explain it all was honestly a struggle for him when he was this drained.

“I’ll stay, then.”

“Derek, if you don’t want to stay – “

_“Who said I don’t want to?”_

There was this strange feeling in Stiles’ stomach, almost as if it was swirling, and maybe it really was swirling, but not in an anxious or uncomfortable way. He couldn’t put a finger on it.

“So are you going to sit there and stare at me all night like a total creep?” Stiles asked with a smile that was almost like a smirk, using a teasing tone of voice, his eyes still glaring at the werewolf. Seeing Derek roll his eyes and actually feeling as it was radiating off of him how tired he was of all the teasing made him smile wider.

“Do you always mask insults with humour?”

“ _Come on,_ Derek. I was kidding _. Oh my god,_ who ate your bowl of sunshine this morning, _thundercloud?_ ” Stiles voice was dripping with sarcasm and the same smirk was still on his lips as he moved aside, closer to the wall, making room and patting the bed next to him. “As far as I know I don’t have any infectious disease so unless you have any excuses, you’re invited to spend the night in Stiles’ bed.”

And that was what did it; the look that he got from Derek at that offer was worth everything, and it made him laugh really hard; at first it started off as a small giggle that quickly got louder and then ended with this loud, high pitched laugh the longer he stared at the werewolf.

“Are you always such an idiot or do you just show off when I’m around?”

“Well you know, being an idiot is not a crime, so I feel free to go.” Stiles replied with this big grin that Derek swore could grow flowers and in that moment _he caught himself smiling_ while he shook his head.

“Come on. Lay down before I change my mind.” He insisted and watched Derek carefully, and he could have sworn he heard the gears in his head churning; but it only took an other moment for him to finally decide and accept Stiles’ stupid offer, acting as if it was something he really hated to do but he had no other choice. Behind the walls, Derek knew better – but he hoped the boy couldn’t see right through him.

“See, it wasn’t that hard.” He spoke in a happy voice, totally satisfied with himself as he laid back down comfortably, hearing the wolf letting out an annoyed sigh as his eyes closed.

 “Just _shut up_ and _sleep_ already.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> idk what this is i'm sorry!  
> is it worth continuing? i wonder


End file.
